


Just a Fantasy

by ElAlmaDelMar



Series: A/B/O/tober 2020 [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Alpha Zoro, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Birth Control Fail, Intersex male character, M/M, Omega Sanji, in heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElAlmaDelMar/pseuds/ElAlmaDelMar
Summary: "Impatient shit-cook," he growled, low and dark against Sanji's skin. "Don't be in a rush. I'm gonna takegoodcare of you."A/B/O/tober Day 5: Impregnation
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Sanji
Series: A/B/O/tober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947415
Comments: 17
Kudos: 317
Collections: A/B/O/tober 2020





	Just a Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Well, y'all have been asking about nsfw and also omega Sanji, and I live to serve. Enjoy~ 
> 
> As a note, I write male omegas with vulvae. If that's not your flavor, you may not enjoy this.

"Come on, Marimo" Sanji whined. "What are you waiting for?" 

"Just admiring the view," Zoro rumbled in return, not bothering to hide his amusement with the impatient, needy tone. 

And what a hell of a view it was. The cook was lying on his stomach on the sumptuous bed, entirely nude, with the tempting curve of his ass upturned and just-so-slightly lifted, shedding the scent of slick and need in the air. Normally so controlled — so goddamn covered up, what with his stupid suits and jackets and all that bullshit — and yet, here he was, exposed to Zoro's gaze, his smooth control already shredded at the edges and deteriorating further with each passing moment. 

They were lucky. The blond's heat had struck just as they pulled into port, and with ten days for the log pose to set, and a large, metropolitan port town ready to entertain the Straw Hat Pirates in the interim, the two of them had been able to find a room in a heat hotel to ride out the cycle in delicious style, with the kind of privacy they simply could not get at sea. 

Zoro intended to take full advantage of it. 

He slid onto the bed, draping himself over the cook's back to press an openmouthed kiss to the nape of his neck and the matebite scarred into the smooth skin there. He wasn't a romantic, not like Sanji was, but damned if there wasn't a thrill of pleasure to seeing it there. His mark. His mate. 

Beneath him, Sanji rocked up against him, not bothering to disguise his impatience. That was heat for you — even the consummate romantic didn't want to bother with the little steps. 

"Impatient shit-cook," he growled, low and dark against Sanji's skin. "Don't be in a rush. I'm gonna take _good_ care of you." 

Sanji hissed in response. "We walked all the way here with every alpha in the street staring at me. I could _smell_ them wanting me." He didn't have to elaborate on why he was focused on that; Zoro knew. Sanji hated his secondary gender, hated being an object of lust. The walk from Sunny up to the hotel, already in the beginning grip of heat, had left him feeling exposed, uncomfortable, at odds with his proud self-reliance. 

In answer, Zoro let his weight press down more firmly on Sanji, blanketing him, shielding him from the world outside. 

"They can't have you," he rumbled in answer. "You're mine. I'll grind myself into every pore of your body. They know I'll kill anyone who touches you." 

"Only if I don't kill them first," Sanji mumbled, placated, and twisted an arm behind himself to slide his fingers into Zoro's short hair and press on his head, a silent request for more attention. 

Attention Zoro was happy to give. He rocked himself down against the curve of that hard, muscled ass. Sanji was tense with need below him, fever-hot — the term _heat_ wasn't only metaphorical. The next few days would be a blur of want and desperation for the cook, and Zoro intended to ride him through all of it, to make sure that desperation was satisfied. 

He began dragging a line of kisses down Sanji's spine, letting the scent of his mate's need fill his nostrils until his own body was begging him to speed things up. Zoro never had reactive ruts — his cycle was inexorably regular — but he was glad for it, glad to keep his senses when the cook was spiraling out of his. Each little nub of spine, he counted down with his mouth, tasting hot skin sweating out heat pheromones, feeling Sanji arch and wriggle needily under him, until he could sink his teeth into the lean muscle of Sanji's ass with a firm nip. 

"Oi!" A yelp of startlement, but he heard no displeasure. "Stop fucking _around_ and get to fucking _me_ , stupid musclehead!" 

"Keep talking like that and maybe I'll go for a walk first," Zoro teased back, smirking, and cupped his hands lightly over Sanji's slick-wet folds, not pressing _in_ yet — just stroking, letting Sanji's slick smear against his fingers.. Immediately, Sanji ground down into his hand, any retort he might have made breaking off into a low whimper of need. 

"Best part of you going into heat," Zoro added with a low chuckle. "It's so easy to shut you up, cook." 

"Nnh- go fuck yourself," Sanji managed to string together, his voice too thick to have any sting at all in it. 

"I've got a better idea." With those words, Zoro slid two fingers into Sanji, invading his slick-hot body and making him arch up. "Yeah, just like that. Show me you want it." Slowly, luxuriously, he pumped those two fingers in and out of Sanji's slit, opening him up and warming him up — not that he needed warming — for the main act. Fucking him on his hand, like this, where he could watch every twitch and shudder, every ripple of muscle and and every tremble in that lean, beautiful body. 

All his. 

Sanji rocked himself onto Zoro's hand, clenched his muscles around those intruding digits, arched into his touch with the most beautiful show of need and pleasure Zoro thought he'd ever seen. Rushed quickies in the pantry or fucking through their cycles on a futon in a storage room just couldn't compete with the way he could relax here, on a soft bed with no responsibilities or worries of getting caught. They had all the time, all the freedom in the world right now. 

He slid his fingers out of Sanji's body, feeling the generous slick drip off them, and slid forward a little to wrap his hand around his omega's slim cock, small and damn cute and so easy to play with. No rush, no rush at all. At least, not for him. The cook, on the other hand… 

Sanji twisted his head to look over his shoulder, blue eyes hazy with lust and cheeks flushed pink. "Come on," he mumbled, trying hard for an impatient grumble and missing entirely. "I'm _in heat_. Fuck me already!" 

Zoro just laughed. "Bossy." But he rolled up onto his knees and mounted his mate, draping himself over the cook's back again and sliding a hand between them to guide himself home. The head of his cock nudged against Sanji's slick, soft folds, and he couldn't help a little low rumble of his own pleasure, his own anticipation. 

He loved this moment, this first slow slide as he pressed _in_ , the feeling of Sanji's body welcoming him, clutching tight and silken-soft and hot around him. The cook hadn't been his first, but he'd never been with anyone who felt half this good. He'd never tell him this, but from the very first time they'd blown off a little steam on each other, he'd known. Sanji was the only one he could ever want after that. The only one he'd have, for the rest of his life. 

His mate. 

Sanji groaned aloud as Zoro set the pace, rolling into him in long, languorous thrusts. No hurry, no rush — there would be, of course, but why not take his time? They were going to be here for _days_. That's what a heat was. Time for the two of them, time for him to fill Sanji over and over again, nature demanding the rituals of mating even when medicine gave them control of all of it. Heats were supposed to mean pups, but a dose of medicine from Chopper before the heat started and no seed would take root in Sanji's body, leaving them to enjoy each other freely as they sailed the seas. 

Someday, Zoro thought to himself, pleasure starting to haze his mind as his thrusts picked up speed, as Sanji raised his hips to meet every push. Someday, he'd tell Sanji not to take that medicine. When he was the greatest swordsman and Luffy was the pirate king and they had a little peace, a little space — then he'd fill Sanji's belly with a litter. 

It wasn't the first time he'd had that thought, and every time, it was seductive. He bent his head, kissing and nipping at Sanji's shoulderblades, inhaling heat-musk that made his head swim with animal impulses. Sanji with his flat belly rounded out, heavy with pups — with Zoro's seed taking root in him — it was all too easy to imagine, the soft look in the cook's eyes, those beautiful long-fingered hands caressing a growing curve, the way his scent would change to proclaim to all the world, a mated bonded and _bred_ omega, Zoro's to the core. 

A fantasy, that was all, would be all for years yet, but fuck, he loved it. 

Sanji's cries rose in volume and pitch as Zoro's knot started to swell, the edge of it catching on every thrust, almost ready to lock — fuck, god, he was close, his thrusts hard now, loud in the stillness of their room, and he growled in the back of his throat, looped an arm around Sanji's body to press his hand flat against Sanji's muscled belly. _Here. Here is where I'll plant my seed._

And with a roar of pleasure, he slammed himself home, his knot bulling its way into Sanji's body with a surge that made the omega scream into orgasm. The tight clench of silken muscle was the last little spark of pleasure Zoro needed to tip himself over the edge, and he clutched hard at Sanji as he spilled himself, long spurts into that heat-receptive body, a pleasure that grabbed him and shook him even as Sanji kept trembling with his own drawn-out pleasure beneath him. 

Only the first. They had days to go of this. 

* * *

Finally, it was over. Showered, clean, but still full of a deeply satisfying ache, Sanji strolled back to the ship with Zoro at his side. 

"We need to do this more often," he commented, lighting a cigarette and drawing a deep lungful of smoke. "That was way fuckin' better than going through heat on the ship." 

"Yeah, I'm gonna let you be the one to beg Nami for that kind of a budget," Zoro grumbled, starting to turn down an alleyway that most certainly _wasn't_ the way back to the docks. 

Sanji snagged his wrist and tugged him away from his impending bad decision. "I'm sure she'd be perfectly willing to offer the occasional treat. She'll just take it out of your booze budget—" 

" _Oi!_

Boarding the ship, Sanji made a beeline back to the galley. He had a few things to put away, and besides, it would feel good to get back into his own space. Things always felt a little weird after a heat, and the sooner he could get back into his normal daily rhythm, the better. 

Everything was just how he'd left it — of course it was, with the rest of the crew enjoying their shore leave. No Luffy to try breaking into the fridge while he wasn't there to guard it, no Usopp trying to paint at the mess table, no… 

He froze. 

_Just how he'd left it._

Including the little bottle sitting on the counter where he'd absentmindedly set it down for just a moment. Just a moment, a week ago, when he was getting ready to leave with Zoro for the hotel, his mind already fogged by the onset of heat. 

The little bottle Chopper had given him. The contraceptive medicine. 

Still full. 

" _Fuck!_ " 


End file.
